


Two A.M. Cravings

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Food Sex, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 13:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15664074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: You get a craving for ice cream in the middle of the night. You get a lot more than you expected once you’re in the kitchen.





	Two A.M. Cravings

 

There was nothing like a two a.m. craving for ice cream. It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the fact that you were sleeping alone since Bucky had been gone almost a week on another mission, while you’d been stuck at the compound, preparing to testify at the trial of a drug lord the team had taken down eight months ago. You didn’t sleep well when he was gone; you needed him. You been tossing and turning for hours, trying to go to sleep, but it wasn’t happening, so you threw back the covers, grabbed your robe off the chair, and made your way down to the compound kitchen. 

You didn’t bother to turn on the light, just went straight to the refrigerator, found a pint of your favorite ice cream in the freezer, and grabbed a spoon from the drawer. You sat on the edge of the metal table in the corner, your feet resting on one of the chairs, scooping up bite after bite of the cold sweetness. You hadn’t been there long when you heard footsteps coming down the long hallway. A few seconds later, to your surprise, Bucky entered the kitchen and headed straight for the refrigerator. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a pair of low slung sweatpants. You let him rummage around for a few minutes before you spoke.

“Hungry?” you asked.

“Jesus Christ!” Bucky jumped, spinning around, hands up, muscles flexing, the whir of his metal arm loud in the dark kitchen. He was on edge, ready to fight, until his eyes landed on you. “Y/N! You scared the shit out of me. You’re lucky I don’t have a weapon.” He slammed the refrigerator closed and strode across the room, coming to a stop in front of you. “What are you doing hiding down here?” His fingers drifted down your bare arm as he stepped between your legs.

“What are  _ you _  doing down here?” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips. “When did you get back?”

“An hour ago,” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours, his hands falling to your waist. “I wanted to get cleaned up, grab something to eat before I went to bed, before I saw you.”

“You should have told me you were coming home,” you scolded him. “I missed you.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” he shrugged. “I thought you’d be sleeping.” He kissed the corner of your mouth and along the length of your jaw. “And I missed you, too.”

You tipped your head back, allowing Bucky’s lips to travel down your neck to the hollow of your throat, his hands tightening on your waist as he dragged you closer. The spoonful of ice cream in your hand - which you’d forgotten about as soon as Bucky stepped between your legs - tipped, the frozen cream dropping on Bucky’s chest and sliding between his pecs.

“Shit,” he hissed. “That’s fucking cold.”

“Sorry,” you giggled. You leaned forward, your tongue darting out to lick at the cream on his chest.

Bucky moaned, his head falling back as you licked him clean. You sat back, smiling up the super soldier staring down at you with lust blown eyes. He reached for the carton of ice cream, but you slapped his hand away and twisted out of his grip, dropping to the floor and turning on him, pushing him backwards until he had taken your spot at the table. You took a spoonful of ice cream from the carton and held it out to him, only to pull it away at the last second, giggling at the playfully wounded look on his face. You kept your eyes on him as you used the spoon to trace his nipple, dragging it down his chest to the v peeking from his sweatpants, the ice cream dripping all over him.

“God damn, Y/N,” he groaned.

The spoon clattered to the table as you dropped it and the carton, freeing up your hands. Bucky growled as your fingers danced over the scars on his shoulder and your lips wrapped around his nipple, sucking gently. You dropped to your knees, your tongue caressing Bucky just above the waistband of his sweatpants, your fingers hooked in them, sliding them down past the bottom of his ass, freeing his hard cock. Another groan left him as your lips wrapped around him, one hand curled around the base of his cock, the other flat on his thigh. You swallowed him down, moaning as his taste hit your tongue, his hips jerking when he hit the back of your throat. The fingers of his metal hand tangled in your hair, urging you on, his hips coming off of the table as you took him deeper down your throat.

Your nails dug into Bucky’s thigh as his cock pulsed and twitched in your mouth, your own body wound tight with want and need. Bucky was panting, low rumbles of pleasure coming from him. You loved the sounds Bucky made, sounds meant only for your ears, sounds he only made when he was surrendering to the pleasure his body was feeling.

Bucky grabbed you under the arms, lifted you up and swung around, setting you firmly on the metal table. He shot a look over his shoulder before he untied your robe and let it slide down your shoulders, baring your skin to him. He picked up the carton of ice cream, dipped his finger inside, and grabbed a huge dollop, dribbling it over your breasts. He pushed you back until you were lying on the table, his hips nestled between your legs, his heavy cock brushing against the lips of your wet pussy. His mouth closed over your breast, his tongue circling the nipple, his fingers digging into your sides as he pulled you closer, suckling greedily. You gasped, your back arching, your fingers tangling in his long chestnut locks, holding him to you.

Bucky’s hands were everywhere, caressing and touching you, drifting across your breasts, tracing a line down your stomach, following it with his lips, his breath warm against your skin. The first touch of his lips made you gasp, the feel of his breath blowing across your heated core made your body ache for more, made every nerve tingle with need. Your legs fell open and Bucky’s tongue slid through your already slick folds, a low hum rumbling through him.

He pushed forward, his tongue sliding deeper into you, his mouth closing over you, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you closer. You scrambled for purchase on the cool metal table, finally grabbing the robe now bunched beneath you, clutching the soft material so tight your knuckles ached.

Bucky was ravenous, insatiable, eating you out like a starving man, his head moving from side to side, his tongue buried deep in your pussy, his nose pressed to your clit, small grunts of satisfaction coming from him as he devoured you.

Jesus, the things this man did to you, the things he made you feel, it was indescribable, unbelievable. You couldn’t count how many times you orgasmed, one rolling into the other until it seemed like you were having one long, perfect, unending climax. You put a hand over your mouth, desperate to hold back the filthy screams of decadent pleasure building in your throat. You didn’t need to bring all the Avengers in the compound down to the kitchen to investigate the screams coming from the room.

Once Bucky released you, you couldn’t move; you were completely spent, satisfied in a way only Bucky could accomplish. Before you could move, Bucky’s metal hand was sliding down your stomach, between your legs, his fingers teasing at your entrance. One finger slipped inside of you, pumping slow and easy, gently, immediately putting you on edge, your overstimulated body quickly responding to his touch.

You couldn’t help yourself, you pushed against his hand, your hips bucking as he continued his exploration of your body, his mouth roaming over every inch of you, his fingers buried deep inside of you. It didn’t take him long to find that one spot that could make you come undone. His fingers brushed over it, sending spasms of pleasure rushing through you.

“Bucky, please,” you moaned, squirming and mewling with a desperate need, another orgasm just within your reach.

The super soldier chose that moment to pull away, his hands sliding under your ass and pulling you to the edge of the table. Bucky pulled your leg around his waist, guided himself to your entrance, and with one hard thrust, he entered you. He braced his hand on the edge of the table, his hips moving in slow, tight circles, his mouth on yours, licking at your lips, demanding entrance. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, and held on, letting the sensations and the emotions take you, pure, unadulterated, intense pleasure winding its way through your veins, consuming you, overwhelming you.

Bucky’s hand slipped between your bodies, his nimble fingers immediately finding your clit, rubbing it as he thrust into you, harder and harder with every second that passed, your body flush against his, so close together, that you were like one entity. He rolled your clit between his fingers, and you were gone, another orgasm exploding through you, your mouth pressed against Bucky’s shoulder, muffling your scream.

Bucky growled as he came, the sound rumbling through his chest, his hand tightening on your hips as his stuttered out of control. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling you, holding you close, his breath tearing in and out of him, his own orgasm rushing through him.

The two of you didn’t move much for the next couple of minutes, just enough to exchange several chaste kisses and tender caresses. Finally, Bucky pulled his sweatpants up and helped you off the table. He grabbed your robe and helped you into it, tying the belt loosely around your waist. He took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, and with a gentle tug, led you from the kitchen.

Neither of you noticed the carton of ice cream melting on the floor a foot or so away from the table.


End file.
